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7
The following night, Liam lay staring at the ceiling, reciting all the modern swear words he’d been learning. Given the fact that he was a police officer and, in the past couple of days, he’d spent a considerable amount of time driving through traffic or working with Cora out in the city, his list of curse words was getting off to a right good start.
“Dick off,” he murmured. No, that wasn’t it. Something piss, and then head, or... Ah, yes. “Piss off, dickhead.”
“Eloquent,” a smooth voice said from the darkened corner.
Liam jackknifed out of bed, his hands balled into fists.
The shadows dimmed, then melted away in bright sparks of light as the tall, dark-haired angel moved into the room. The shorter blond one appeared beside him. Their wings glowed at their backs, the feathers softly rippling in a breeze Liam couldn’t feel.
He stumbled back and sat down hard on the bed. Even knowing these celestial beings were on his side, they were awe-inspiring and fearsome to behold.
“I see you’ve been working at blending in, ruffian,” the blond one said stoically. “What with all your attention to certain aspects of the modern language.”
Liam struggled to find his voice. His initial shock at seeing them morphed slowly into frustration. He had questions, dammit. And he needed a lot of answers, but he’d settle for the biggest issue first. “Why does it hurt whenever my skin touches Cora’s?” he demanded. “That’s your doing, isn’t it?”
The blond angel looked bored. “Of course, ruffian. It was necessary to keep you focused. You’re like a starving mongrel at a buffet when it comes to her, and we didn’t want you to fail within your first hour here. Think of it as...” He turned to the other angel. “What’s it called, again?”
“Training wheels,” the dark-haired angel said proudly. His encouraging smile did nothing to alleviate Liam’s escalating frustration. “From what I gather, they’re often very helpful.”
“I don’t need training wheels,” Liam snarled. “There’s little chance of me failing because Cora remembers nothing of the love we shared, thanks to you.”
“True,” the blond angel agreed. “But you forget we’re familiar with your tactics when it comes to charming women. This way, it won’t be easy for you to fall into old patterns. As long as you keep your hands to yourself, you’ll have a better chance of steering Cora into the arms of the right man.”
“Finley Walsh,” Liam almost spat the name. He still couldn’t say it without grimacing. He scrubbed his face with both hands, then clenched his fingers into his hair and tugged. “How can I influence Cora to fall for that milksop of a man if she doesn’t even care for my opinion? And as for him, I haven’t even seen him yet. I’ve no idea where he is in this godda—uh—in this city. And then there’s Boyd as my boss. Boyd. Really? It’s bad enough I’ve got to deal with Margaret, too. Why have you thrown me into a relationship with her? I don’t see how it can help my situation in the least. Everything is so screwed up here, I feel as if my mind is cracking. And Cora...” He trailed off, a bleak, overwhelming sense of hopelessness settling over him, then finished on a whisper. “Cora doesn’t know me anymore.”
The dark-haired angel glided closer and reached out. He touched the tip of his finger between Liam’s eyes, Liam suddenly felt as if he’d been dipped in sunlight. He was as weightless as a song on the wind. Blinking in awe, he rolled his shoulders, no longer crushed by heavy emotions.
“Have patience, Liam O’Connor.” The angel’s voice was like a balm to his frazzled nerves. “There are things you must learn in your own time.”
Liam took a calming breath and dropped his head into his hands. “It’s just hard seeing her after missing her for so long. And then coming back to this motel alone, each day. She won’t have me at her house.”
“We’ve taken care of that,” the blond one said.
He glanced up sharply. “How?”
Neither of them answered. They began to slide back into the shadows.
“Wait!” Liam stood up in alarm. There were so many things he still needed to know. He tried to step closer, but an invisible barrier stopped him. He pressed both hands against it. “Can’t you tell me more? I thought you were supposed to help me.”
“Tomorrow you’ll meet Finn.” The dark-haired angel said kindly.
“Perhaps then, you will stop wasting energy trying to learn curse words, rogue,” the blond one added. “And you will focus, instead, on saving your endangered soul.”
They spread their shimmering wings, burst into a thousand pinpoints of light and then disappeared.
Liam sat alone in the dark for a long time. When he was certain they were well and truly gone, he slumped back onto the bed and whispered, “Balls.”
On Wednesday evening, Liam felt like a wild horse chomping at the bit. He had to get out of the office. He had to move his body. Sitting still for long periods of time had never been easy, and he didn’t understand how these people did it. He’d been fake-working at his desk all day, still incompetent at computers. Apparently, the angels hadn’t thought it necessary to fix that aspect of his knowledge. Since Cora had to write up some reports, they hadn’t spent any time out in the field, and he felt like he was going to explode.
It didn’t make things easier that his desk was across the room from Cora. All he had to do was glance up to see her lovely face. Watch her lick whipped cream off her fancy coffee drinks. Witness as she absently played with the gold necklace nestled in her V-neck shirt.
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, then shot to his feet. Enough sitting.
Otto swiveled his balding head in Liam’s direction. “Everything okay?”
“I’m just going to grab some...coffee.” Grab some coffee never, because that stuff was bad enough to curdle a man’s insides, but everyone in this place seemed to consider it one of life’s necessities, so he played along.
